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Essays, Poetry & Open Letters by Jane Doe

Essays, poetry, and open letters by Edmonton writer Jane Doe.

written in the tilt

if we were two gravestones, i would let the years bury me just to rise again against you. i would trade silence for stone and carve myself hollow, just to feel your weight press into mine.

Poetry

a threadbare buzz

muted like the inside of a car idling too long in an empty driveway every memory pulls like a thread, unraveling what i tried to stitch together in the dark

Poetry

YOU TAUGHT ME TO LOVE COFFEE (alternatively titled: even bad habits feel holy when they’re yours)

i saw your old mug at the thrift store. the one with the chip in the handle that you used to press against your thumb. the cashier asked if i wanted it, but i said, “no, thank you,” like it wasn’t the most intimate thing i’d touched in years.your sister told me you hated coffee, that you only drank it because you thought it made you seem older, like adding cream could smooth out the rough edges you didn’t want anyone to see.half the things i remember about you aren’t even true anymore. but that

Poetry

lessons you’ll learn the hard way (before 26)

1. people will use you until there’s nothing left, and then blame you for breaking. stop giving yourself away to people who only know how to take.2. love doesn’t always heal you-sometimes, it guts you. and when it does, you’ll sit in the wreckage, wondering why the fuck you weren’t enough. here’s the truth: it wasn’t you. it was never you.3. abandonment will carve its name into your chest, but it’s not a brand you have to carry forever. stop trying to stitch yourself together with the apologies

Reflection

an unsent letter to the uninvited

if you ask me about hope, i’ll tell you about the fucking days it shows up uninvited, dressed up in pretty lies, whispering empty promises l

Open Letter

cradle to casket

she never raises her hands in defeat when it comes to compassion, her perception of loss is fogged with the stain of love.

Poetry

tell her story

The ability to maintain a stiff upper lip and dry eyes In the face of fear, resentment, or disappointment Being able to look at hurt and...

Poetry

beyond the borderline: bpd unveiled

I felt like I was melting from the inside out, my muscles would contract throughout my abdomen and I would feel physical pain from these…

Essay

call me if you need me- unfinished

call me if you need me, but i mean, if you really need me don’t call just to chat, i’m tired of niceties and small talk exchanged for a g

Poetry

darling

darling, won't you come over? can we talk through the mess we made? the windows shattered in the storm and i'm cutting myself on the shards

Poetry